


The Killing Kind

by cardiac_arrest



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 21:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18126755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardiac_arrest/pseuds/cardiac_arrest
Summary: “Come with me,” Mitch says, slipping his hand into Auston’s. They’re lying so close together that Auston can see his individual eyelashes.“Where?” Auston asks and lifts Mitch’s hand to his mouth, kissing it.“You know where.” There’s a gentle smile on Mitch’s face. Auston wants.





	The Killing Kind

 

Mitch’s smile is the last thing Auston sees. Mitch’s laugh is the last thing he hears. 

***

He wakes up in a hospital room. He isn’t sure where he is, but with the tubes sticking in and out of his body, he knows it isn’t good. He looks around, taking in the bundles of flowers and get well cards scattered around the room in piles and feels his heart get heavier. He thinks back, back before the black blank in his memory. 

Oh. He remembers. 

***

Auston gets away with a concussion and a few broken bones. Mitch... Mitch doesn’t.

***

It’s only when he gets back home, with the help of Mo, that he finally understands. Mitch is not going to come back. It doesn’t seem that way, but Auston can’t do anything about it. He only feels pain and sadness. He drops off what little stuff he has at the door and toes his shoes off. It’s the stretch before the playoffs, but he can’t bring himself to care as much as he did before.

He doesn’t turn on the lights. There’s already a mild ringing in his ears and a nasty headache chipping away at his head. He takes one step into their apartment and almost collapses. Mitch’s stupid Red Bull cap is right there on the ground.

Auston stops. He sits down, mindful of the cast on his right arm, and clutches the hat close. He thinks back to the time when Mitch wore it on one of their date nights. He looked so dumb, walking around like he was a spokesperson for Red Bull.  _ Red Bulls are so bad for you, _ Auston thinks. 

And then he thinks. He thinks about not seeing Mitch’s body, one more time. He thinks about the drunk driver that slammed into the passenger’s side, where Mitch was sitting. He can’t quite remember the guy’s name and he definitely doesn’t know what he looks like, but Auston doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to think about what he would even do if he got that information. 

It’s fine. No, really, because Mitch is still there. 

***

Auston has trouble sleeping. It isn’t new, he’s always had trouble sleeping. But now, it’s getting to a point where even he’s getting concerned. 

He doesn’t think it’s the concussion. It feels completely different from the last one, where it was the symptoms that kept him up. This time it feels like there’s a vibrant thrumming pulsing through his bones. 

He’s always tired until it hits midnight and he can’t shut his eyes. 

He spends most of those hours awake thinking about Mitch. He waits. The door will open anytime. 

***

“Have you been sleeping at all?” Willy says, a stern look on his face. 

Auston sighs and closes his eyes. “Yes.” 

There’s a brief moment of silence between them, Willy still glaring at him worriedly. Auston turns on the couch, so his back faces Willy. 

“Auston.” Willy’s voice is softer this time. “He’s not… he’s not here anymore.” 

Auston grits his teeth, feels the hot rush of rage run, and says nothing. 

***

Auston dreams a lot now, when he actually falls asleep. They’re always grainy, but he wakes up feeling the aftershocks of their intensity. He dreams of Mitch, sitting on the counter with pale, pale skin. Paler than he’s ever been.

There’s still the easy smile present on his face and it looks like he’s about to start ribbing Auston about something. He sees and he wants. The scene shifts and Mitch is gone. He can’t remember what happened. 

It must not have been good. There’s a feverish quality of terror and danger and despair that he feels.

***

He starts hearing the whispers a few days after the funeral. Auston still doesn’t know why they had a funeral when Mitch wasn’t gone. He can’t believe they think he’s gone. 

The whispers are subtle. Auston doesn’t even register the voices until he’s responding to one of them out loud. It doesn’t scare him. It sounds like Mitch. 

That night, he dreams again. This time, he can remember. He touches Mitch, feels the cold smoothness of his skin and smiles. He looks at Mitch’s face, taking in his blue, blue eyes and too-wide smile. He caresses his cheek and watch as Mitch’s eyelashes flutter. 

He kisses him. It feels real. 

***

“Have you been in here for all this time?” Mo storms around his apartment, angry. He’s flipping open curtains and opening windows. 

“No,” Auston scoffs and plops down. 

“I know you don’t have a concussion anymore, so why aren’t you coming out more?” 

Auston frowns. “Should I be?”

Mo looks at him, sad. “We miss you.”

Auston doesn’t say anything.

“We all miss him, too,” Mo whispers and settles next to him. 

Auston’s lips thin into a line and Mo pulls him into a hug. 

***

“I miss you,” Auston says out loud once. He hears the curtains ruffle. Then he sees movement in the corner of his eye

He looks towards the hallway and sees nothing. He smells cologne, the one he bought Mitch for Christmas as a gag gift. 

He settles next to the window he left open. Mitch always complained it was too hot during the winter. Auston lets his eyes unfocus, mind drifting off to think about too-loud laughs and wrinkled noses. He stays there, trapped in the spiral of thoughts. 

There’s a quiet clack in front of Auston. He breaks out of his induced daze, noticing a big black bird. It clings onto the ledge of the window with its taloned claws, tilting his head side-to-side and giving Auston a perfect view of its bleak, beady eyes and tough feathers. A raven. 

He stares it down, daring it to do something. It shrieks once, a terrible screeching that sharply digs into Auston’s brain. Its visage is scary, beak widened and showing those terrible bird teeth. 

Auston raises an eyebrow. It shrieks again. 

***

The next time Auston can’t sleep, he wanders through the hallways. He hears a faint sobbing, not unlike what Mitch sounds like. 

It takes him seconds to reach the kitchen in his haste, face creased in hope at finding Mitch. He isn’t disappointed. 

It’s like his dream, Mitch sitting on the counter with his face buried into his knees. 

“Mitch,” Auston whispers. He was right. Mitch is still here. 

Mitch doesn’t react and only shakes. He’s in a simple white t-shirt, oversized enough to reach the middle of his thighs. 

“Mitch,” Auston tries again and steps closer. “What’s wrong?” 

And finally, Mitch tilts his head up. Auston almost cries at the relief he feels when he sees Mitch’s perfect face again, albeit stained with tear tracks. Those pretty blue eyes still seem to twinkle, even in the dark. 

“They don’t... they don’t think I’m here,” Mitch sobs out, voice cracking from phlegm. 

Auston shuffles closer, hands hovering just above Mitch’s body. “I think you’re here.”

“But am I?” Mitch questions. His eyes peer up at Auston with static sadness that cuts through Auston like a scalpel. 

"You are,”  Auston grits out. He goes to embrace Mitch. He disappears. 

There’s nothing there. 

***

“Come with me,” Mitch says, slipping his hand into Auston’s. They’re lying so close together that Auston can see his individual eyelashes. 

“Where?” Auston asks and lifts Mitch’s hand to his mouth, kissing it. 

“You know where.” There’s a gentle smile on Mitch’s face. Auston  _ wants. _

He closes his eyes and the sound of waves crashing on a shore runs through his mind, the cold water rushing in his veins. 

He tugs Mitch closer and closer. He’s not sure which limbs are his anymore. He opens his eyes and wakes up to tapping at the window. 

***

There’s a text from Mo that he ignores on that day. It says “are u coming out tonight before ur first game back tomorrow???” He’s not. 

***

Auston steps into the water without preamble. He doesn’t take off any of his clothes. It’s cold, but he expected it. 

He wades out further and further, thinking of Mitch as his feet tread empty space. It’s calm and tranquil as the waves crash into him. 

He lets go with a deep breath, welcoming the ice running in his veins. 

He falls. 

**Author's Note:**

> leaving it open to interpretation :)
> 
> thanks everyone for reading. if you liked it, please leave a kudos. and if you really liked it, leave a comment down below. tell all your friends and come scream with me on tumblr @mitcheemarns. 
> 
> you can blame marianas trench for this.


End file.
